The Promise
by ROSSELLA1
Summary: What happened to Roy and Walt after Dark Side of the Moon?


The Promise

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. 

The first thing that Walt was aware of when he woke up was a throbbing headache. How much had he drank? He couldn't even remember leaving the bar and damn, his head hurt! He felt someone lying next to him. Had he brought someone back to the motel? He turned his head.

"Roy?" Walt asked. How drunk had he been? It was then that he noticed that his friend had a look of sheer terror on his face. And that they were in no hotel room. There were walls of dirt around them and about eight feet up, a rectangular opening, letting in a view of the sky. "Roy, what the-"

"Hey, Sam!" A face peered over the edge of the pit. "They're awake! Hello, Walt." The dead man grinned. "My name is Dean Winchester. You killed my brother…er, temporarily…prepare to die."

"Wha…how…"

"No?" Dean Winchester raised a brow. "Oh, well."

Then, the impossible happened again. Sam Winchester appeared next to Dean. "The Princess Bride, Dean?"

"It's a classic!" Dean glanced away, embarrassedly. "Anyway, you recognized it, too!"

"Excuse me!" Walt snapped, fighting his shock; clearly, Roy wasn't going to speak up, so that left him to get to the bottom of this. "How the Hell-"

"Does it matter?" Roy whimpered next to him. "They're back and pissed as Hell!"

"Got that right!" Dean chuckled, humorlessly.

"How are you still alive?" Walt repeated.

"The angels brought us back." Dean replied. "See, you really should have listened to my brother. The angels and Lucifer're the ones causing this whole damn Apocalypse. Sammy and I are just along for the ride. Sure," Dean shrugged, "maybe we helped it along, but Michael and Lucifer were the ones who began it; they're the ones pushing for it to happen and, to make a long story short, they need us. So, at least until the Apocalypse (which we're trying to avert, by the way) arrives, we both have an unlimited number of get out of Heaven and Hell free cards."

"Dean," Sam interrupted, "can't we just get on with it?"

"Just a moment." Dean gave his brother a dismissive wave. "See, Sammy here thinks you two deserve mercy. But he," Dean dropped into a crouch so that he could talk easier to the two men, "didn't have to watch me die. Not this time at least." The man's face was deadly serious and there was something in the oldest Winchester's eyes that Walt had only seen in the eyes of demons. Walt tried to struggle so that he could stand, but the pit was too narrow to get much leverage, and he was smushed in next to Roy. "So." Dean smiled again, standing up. "We decided to compromise. See, when I was in Hell, I learned all kinds of fun ways to make people squeal like pigs. I wanted to use all of them on the two of you. Make you pay for murdering my baby brother."

"Not a baby." Sam muttered.

Dean continued as if he hadn't heard him. "Then, of course, we'd salt and burn your bodies. But Sam," He shrugged, "Well, Sam wanted to be nice and just shoot you or slice your throats." Dean scoffed. "So, I decided to make it easy on you, and skip dusting off the Torturing for Dummies manual."

"Wouldn't that make you the dummy?" Sam snorted. "Ow!" He cried out, as Dean slapped him upside the head.

"Dude," Dean hissed, "no name-calling in front of the captives!"

"What does it matter? They'll be dead soon, anyway!"

"True." Dean shrugged. "Well, let's get this show on the road then get the Hell out of Dodge!" He stood up and turned around. When he turned back, he had a bag in his hands. "Walt. Roy. I wish Sam would have let us spend more time together, but it just couldn't be." Dean gave a fake sob, and started to pour the contents of the bag into the hole.

Walt closed his eyes until the stuff stopped landing on him. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed a handful of it and brought it up to his face. It was rock salt. A feeling of dread filled him. Apparently Roy had just realized the same thing, because he started screaming his head off, tossing and kicking. Walt tried to get up, but it was impossible.

"Goodbye, boys." Sam sighed from above. "It's a shame. You were good hunters. If you hadn't killed my brother and me, maybe we could have been friends."

There was a glubbing sound, and gasoline started to pour down on them. Finally, Walt heard a scratch, piercingly clear, even over the two's yelling. And then everything started to burn.

…..

The brothers sat cross-legged at the edge of the pit and watched until the flames and the screams died down.

"It's a shame." Dean finally said.

"Yeah." Sam sighed.

"We could have brought marshmal-ow!" Dean glared at Sam, as his brother elbowed him. "What? That was funny and you know it!"

Sam got to his feet and grabbed a shovel. "It's not something to joke about, Dean." He said, as he started to fill in the hole.

"Easy for you to say!" Dean muttered, getting to his feet to help his brother. "You're not the one who watched them kill me! What were _you_ planning on doing to Gabriel when he killed me?"

Sam's face softened. "Of course they deserved it." Then he wrinkled his nose. "But roasting marshmallows over them? That's just gross!"

Dean laughed. "Good, thought you were going soft on me."

" 'course not." Sam smirked. "It's a big brother's job to protect his little brother."

"I know, which is why I was so pissed at them."

"Yeah, but technically you're the little brother. After all, you _are_ shorter than me."  
"Height doesn't count!"

"Keep telling yourself that!" Sam laughed, and the brothers finished filling in the hole.

"I'm older which means I'm the big brother!" Dean protested, gathering up the supplies and throwing them it all in the trunk.

"Technically, that just means you're the older brother, not the bigger brother."

"Yeah, well… you want a ride to Gettysburg or not?" The two brothers got in the Impala and drove off through the woods, their lighthearted banter continuing until they were both far away, conked out in a cheap motel.

Walt and Roy had made a serious mistake. See, long ago, on the night that Dean had carried his baby brother out of their flaming house, he had made a promise. A promise to never let anything hurt Sammy. As the brothers had grown older, Dean had come to realize that that promise was impossible for anyone to keep, so he had changed it. Dean had sworn that he would do everything in his power to protect Sammy and, if anything succeeded in hurting his little brother, Dean would hunt it down and kill it.

Sam had never made such a promise regarding Dean, but the instinct to protect his brother was still there. Ever since Sam could remember, Dean had been the source of almost every good thing in his life. Therefore, anything that harmed Dean must be evil and had to be destroyed. He might not think in those exact words, now that he was older, but the mentality was still there. Anything that hurt or tried to hurt Dean had to die. Walt and Roy should have looked at the examples of the numerous humans and creatures that had come before them; no one fucked with the Winchester brothers and was allowed to die in a painless manner.


End file.
